


Maybe We're Home

by Mahelyn



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, George POV, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29720586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mahelyn/pseuds/Mahelyn
Summary: When George moves to America for his last year of high school, he doesn't expect much. He mostly just hopes it'll go by quickly and be peaceful, so he can move on. But deep down, he also hopes he can make it a place to call "home".Time goes by, and George meets new people, he makes new friends.However, his thoughts always seem to be plagued by a certain person, whose eyes hold a flame that George can't help but reach for.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	Maybe We're Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> I'm really excited for this fic! It's my first one in this fandom and second overall, so yeah I'm H Y P E D  
> It's gonna take place over the whole year, from August to July, a chapter representing a month. I've already got most of it planned out, so that's cool  
> Sorry for any mistakes, this is not beta read lmao (that and English isn't my first language but shhh)  
> Hope you enjoy the ride~
> 
> || Of course, I only ship the characters and not the streamers, please don't ship actual people that's not poggers thank youuu! Don't refer this fic to the CCs. If anyone featured in this fic want it removed, I'll do it no questions asked. ||
> 
> Every chapter's title is from a song, because I think that's cool. Do I know the songs? No. Does it matter? I mean probably but like not that much-  
> So, this first chapter is called August Is Over, after a song by We The Kings :)

George was feeling tired. The flight had been a long 9 hours and the suffocating heat that washed over him as they landed took away his last ounce of energy. This was his new life now: America. His parents had decided to get away from England and decided to go live in a small Floridan town as their new start. George didn’t mind that much, apart from the sudden farewells he had to bid his friends. They promised to stay in touch, but deep down they all knew that it wouldn’t be the same, and that they would drift apart sooner than later.

When he and his parents arrived at their new house, the first thing that struck George was the size of the place: well, coming from an apartment in London, any decently sized home would probably appear huge, but even compared to the other ones on the street, theirs was significantly large. Upon entering, he wasn’t surprised to see the place mostly furnished, as his parents had sold their old furniture to buy new one here. They had been planning to move since June after all, and right as August began, he was gonna have a brand-new start.

He wished his parents a good night (although it was only 6 PM, his body was screaming for some rest after the long day of travel it had been through) and went up to what his parents told him was his bedroom, dragging his heavy suitcase behind him.

When he entered, he registered that the place was mostly navy blue, dark grey and white, before noticing that all his belongings were already in his room, stuffed in the same cardboard boxes he had packed a few days prior. He put down his suitcase and let his eyes drift towards the big bed in front of him, with dark blue sheets and soft-looking pillows that were calling for him. That was the only thing could see at that moment, the ache in his bones and muscles begging him to lay down. _That would be enough for now_ , George thought, as he let out a contented sigh as his body heavily hit the mattress. Enough for him to pass out for the next 12 hours in hopes of quickly beating the jetlag.

* * * * * * * * *

The next day, the sun was shining brightly, painfully awakening the sleepy brunet, who shot up in his bed, panicked as to where he was, but then he remembered: right. America. Florida. Great. He sat up in his bed and heard an unhappy meow: Misu, his 6 months old kitten, was sleeping right next to him, and the sudden movement clearly upset him. After whispering a small apology and checking the time on his phone to see it was 9 AM, the British man looked around his room for the first time: it was really big, at least twice as big as his previous one, back in London. The most notable thing was that at the end of his bed was sitting a television on a console, with a small couch across it. George could also see a big desk in the corner, with an empty bookshelf beside it, and a large closet on the opposite wall.

George spotted a second door, which surprised him to say the least: he already had closet space in his room, so he didn’t need a walk-in closet on top of that, that would be too much space for just one person. The brunet got up, and slowly walked towards the mysterious door. He hesitates for a second and weakly knocks on the door, which he realizes is kind of dumb, since he was sure no one else would be on the other side. He tries to justify his silliness with the fact that he’s overwhelmed with his new room (he’s not, but cut the poor boy some slack), and opens the door.

George is surprised to find a spacious bathroom, with a large white bathtub that highly contrasts with the mat black faucet. A big plant was hiding the toilet, and when looking in the mirror, he noticed that lights were surrounding it, shining brightly onto his face.

“Well, that’s one fancy room I’ve got.”, George told his reflection.

He inspected his image that was displayed in front of him: amber eyes looking straight at him, porcelain skin with soft edges that was sure to get burned more than once in the harsh sun, short brown hair, going in all directions as the result of his 15-hour long night, along with pillow markings on his left cheek. George quickly ran some cold water on his face, and went downstairs to actually start his day, which was gonna be one of many long, painful days of unboxing and going through everything.

George looked around for a bit until he spotted the kitchen, and as he got closer, he was beaming: the place was sleek and modern, clean, and had tons of counter space. It was like his dream come true. Sure, it was mostly empty for now, but George could already picture himself cooking and baking in this place. He always found peace in cooking, the process almost therapeutic, the feeling of accomplishment after receiving praise on his meals one of the most fulfilling experiences he’d ever had. He got a bit closer and read the little note that was left next to a croissant: _“We went to get some kitchenware and food! We should be back with lunch around 1, until then you can start unpacking your stuff Georgie! Love, mom & dad.”_

George smiled softly: he was turning 17 in a few months, but his parents still used that nickname from kindergarten. He was then distracted when he felt something bump his leg, and he looked at the tiny kitten that was in front of him: light-gray fur with tiny tiger stripes, and blue eyes that were almost gray too. Misu wanted food, which George quickly provided him. While George sat down to eat his croissant, his cat decided that his foot was the most comfortable spot around and plopped down onto it.

After he finished eating, George gently put Misu on the couch so he could rest and got back up to his room, ready to face the day. He put on his playlist and started to get to work: in a few hours, he managed to organize all his clothes and was surprised to see how much of it was blue (in his defense, this was the only color he could truly appreciate to its full potential). He then finished putting his toiletries in his bathroom before taking a well-deserved shower. He was setting up his PC when he heard the front door open, and a voice cut through the music:

“Georgie, we’re home! Would you come down and help us?”, he heard his mom calling from downstairs. He immediately stopped what he was doing and went downstairs to help his parents put away everything they had bought. He knew they would soon go back to work, so he wanted to enjoy they full company while he still could. He was greeted by his mother’s blue eyes, always looking so happy when they laid on George. He hugged her, and she ruffled his hair a bit, letting out a giggle.

“Clingy, are we today? Come now, you’re gonna love the plates we got. Thank God your father is tall, because I didn’t even see them from down there, she laughed as they made their way to the entryway, where bags were waiting to be brought over to the kitchen.

\- Yeah, I just want to… I want to spend as much time as I can with you guys before you need to start working again. Your schedules aren’t exactly kind too, so it’s gonna be hard alone in this gigantic house. Like seriously, what is this? A mansion? A castle?

\- Oh, come on now, his dad roared from behind them, a huge bag in each hand. This is a regular family house, you’re just adjusting from our old apartment. Now, let’s unpack all of this, because it sure as hell won’t do it by itself!”

George chuckled and helped them carry the many bags worth of plates, silverware, glasses, utensils, and kitchenware his parents had bought. His eyes sparkled when he saw the sparkling white plates, along with the dark slate ones: his mind was already buzzing with recipe ideas, every new one crazier than the last one. His parents saw the gears turning in his mind as he was mumbling to himself and examining the plates, which gave them a warm smile: seeing their son having a good time despite all the anxiety that moving to a new country must’ve brought him comforts them in their choice.

* * * * * * * * *

George spent the rest of the week unpacking the rest of their belongings when his parents weren’t here, while they went to buy more decoration whenever they could between work hours to make their new house feel like a home. Everything was coming together. On the weekend of their first week, just before his parents started to work full-time again, the three of them went to Orlando to see Universal Studios. They had a great time, although George almost choked on his dessert at lunch: just how much sugar did these Americans put in there? After giving it a thought, he concluded that he didn’t want to know.

And after that, George was alone for most of his days. Well, apart from Misu of course, he was always there to keep him company. George spent some time trying to figure out how the hell his new school system was going to work, and he worked on some code, his first passion and hobby before cooking. There was just something purely mesmerizing about coding something from scratch, bringing his ideas to life that filled George with excitement. He also played some video games, and time flew by rather quickly until the end of August, and therefore the imminent start of the school year.

On the last Sunday before the inevitable day where he would go to a foreign school, in a foreign country, where he didn’t know anybody, George started getting really anxious. So, to calm his nerves, he did what he did best: he started baking. After giving it some thought, he settled on classic chocolate chip cookies, far from challenging but that was what he needed: something simple, something familiar, something that _felt like home_.

_Home. Where was home? Was it England? No, probably not, that was the main reason as to why he and his parents left in the first place after all, because it was suffocating. Maybe his parents were home, then? George loved them to bits, and the support they had provided him through his whole life was beyond anything he could’ve asked for. But George knows they can’t stay like this forever, and the bitter thought of leaving them behind was terrifying. Something was missing, or at least George thought so. He hoped so. It always felt like something was missing, something that would make him whole, something that-_

George rapidly shook the thought as he realized that he had finished the batter, and soon enough he put his cookies in the oven. The cookies were baking, filling the entire house with a sweet scent when the doorbell suddenly rang. George was startled, as he was laying on the couch to calm his nerves a bit while waiting for his cookies to finish baking. He was surprised to say the least, because who the hell would ring at some stranger’s house (they didn’t know anyone yet), on a Sunday afternoon, at 5 PM? George shoved his phone in his apron and went to open the door.

He was greeted by a slightly shorter man, who was probably around his age, with dark black hair and brown eyes. His eyes seemed to have some sort of mischievous but kind sparkle in them, and George immediately noticed the slight Mexican accent in his voice as he started talking.

“Hey man! How’s it going? So, I’ve noticed that you’ve moved here for like a month or whatever. How come- wait. What’s that smell?

\- Uh… cookies.

\- It smells so good! Oh, I’m Quackity by the way, nice to meet you…?

\- …Oh, I’m George, the British man answered a beat too late.

\- Well George, what would you think of being friends? You seem like a cool dude- Oh God it smells so freaking good, Quackity interrupted himself. Please tell me I can come in and we can get to know each other while eating cookies.”

George thought about it, and well, it’s not like he had anything to lose. He gestured to the other to come in, while he went to take the cookies out of the oven. Quackity followed him and leaned on the counter, inhaling the scent of sugar and chocolate with a content hum.

“So, Quackity started, I guess you’re gonna be a new student at Prime?

\- Yeah, exactly. You’re a student there too?

\- I sure am, he said as he gleefully bit one of the cookies. Man those are delicious what the hell- Anyway, you’re lucky I saw you the other day, at least you won’t be alone tomorrow! Well, if we’re in the same class that is. You a senior?”

George nodded silently, chewing on one of his cookies: he was quite proud, they were really good indeed.

“Great! Hopefully we’ll have at least a few classes together. And even if we don’t, you can always come to me! I’ve got a band with a few friends, we’re always hanging out in the music room after classes are over, come find us if you want. I’m sure you’d get along with them! We’re either practicing or just chilling, you’d blend right in. Know you’re welcome here, ‘kay?

\- Thanks, that’s… really nice, actually. Yeah, thank you, I’ll definitely come by.”

And they kept on talking for about two hours, filled with idle chatter, loud laughter, and cookies. Quackity then shot up, in the middle of a sentence, and almost yelled:

“We need to pick your outfit for tomorrow! The first impression is, like, the most important thing. What you wear tomorrow could make or break your reputation for the whole year.

\- Pft, aren’t you exaggerating? George gulped when the other frantically shook his head and started dragging him upstairs.

\- No, I sure as hell am not! Now come, show me your room and your entire closet, we don’t have much time Gogy!

\- Yes we have plenty of time, and- what was that? What did you just call me?

\- Gogy? Your name from now on, because I said so, deadpanned Quackity like it was the most obvious thing ever.”

George reluctantly opened his bedroom door and started to open his closet doors when he heard his new friend gasp at the sight in front of him.

"Yeah, not bad. I know, George said with a hint of smugness in his voice. Having parents who earned a lot and saved up by living in a small apartment for almost 20 years had its perks.

\- Okay, I’m super jealous right now. But, as the great friend I am, I shall not be distracted from my original mission. Put everything on your bed, now.

\- Wh- are you kidding?! Can’t you just like, look through it or something?

\- Nuh-uh, no way! If we want to pick the perfect outfit, we’ll need to actually _see_ the clothes, not just glance at them while they’re all cramped in your big-ass closet.”

George sighed, desperate at the fact that his arguments actually made sense, despite how annoying and time-consuming it would make the process. He carefully laid down all his clothes on his bed. Quackity went through them and, much to George’s surprise, it only took him about ten minutes to pick out a few options. After some debate and a few adjustments, the two boys settled on a simple white collared shirt, a light blue crewneck and some tight black jeans. George would finish the look with some chains and a pair of blue sneakers in the morning. As they were putting away the many unused clothes, Quackity broke the silence:

“You own a lot of blue clothing, man. I’m guessing that’s your favorite color?

\- Yeah, George chuckled, it is. Well, I’m colorblind, so it’s like, the only color I can see properly.

\- Oh shit, I had no idea, sorry man. I-

\- No need to apologize, I know you didn’t mean any wrong. It’s not like you could’ve known. Plus, it’s not like I care that much. It’s been like that my own life, you know, I’m used to it.

\- Yeah, I guess… well, regardless of that, you’re gonna be so pretty tomorrow, I’m sure everyone’s gonna wonder who’s the new hot British kid! All the girls are gonna-

\- Oh, uhm. I’m. Gay, George answered almost instantly. I don’t- care about girls, it’s- an expression of regret washing over his face as the other one took a second to answer. Why did he feel the need to justify himself towards this person he’d just met? Maybe he just wanted to be himself without needing to hide, but he could’ve waited. He barely knew the man in front of him, he could-

\- Oh, cool for you man. Well, I’m sure the boys are gonna go crazy too. Anyone would. I might be straight, but I sure as hell ain’t blind. Love who you wanna love, none of other people’s business. And, if someone ever does bother you, just tell me, me and the guys will have your back, okay? Oh, by the guys I mean the band and our close friend group, he added as he saw the confused look the other one gave him. Trust me, I know what it’s like to feel alone when you’re the “new kid”. But you’re already friends with one of the greatest people in Prime, so you’ll be okay.”

George giggled, relief washing over him as he understood that he would have support, he wouldn’t have to be alone. Quackity followed, and the two of them soon erupted in full-on laughter. Yeah. He was gonna be okay, George could feel it.

* * * * * * * * *

George woke up at 6:30 AM, feeling well-rested. His unexpected meeting from yesterday greatly helped his anxiety fly away, and by the time he was going to bed, he was so exhausted after talking to the hurricane of a neighbor he had met that he fell into a deep, relaxing sleep. He checked his phone and saw _August 31 st: First day of school, let’s do this_. He had written this in his calendar, which made him smile. He then went over to his bathroom (he would never get used to having his own private bathroom) and took a shower, washing his hair in the process. He got dressed and went down to eat his breakfast. He found a note next to a bowl of yogurt, fruits, and some muesli on top: _Have fun today sweetie! Eat up and get some energy, we hear the cafeteria food isn’t great around here. Love, x._

God, his parents knew how to make him smile. George put on some chill music in his headphones and sat down right next to Misu on the sofa, before starting to eat his breakfast. He calmly stroke his soft fur, trying to will the twist of stress in his stomach away. He’s gonna be _okay_. He put his dirty bowl in the dishwasher and went back up. He looked at himself in his mirror, hesitating for a second, and thought _Fuck it. Quackity’s right, this is my first day, I might as well go all out._ He got out his little makeup pouch and put on a little foundation, a quick dash of blush, and a wing of eyeliner to bring out his amber eyes, where you could see gold swimming if you were lucky enough to see them under the right light. He fixed his now dry hair, and took a last look at himself: _now_ , the look was finished.

George grabbed his backpack and immediately heard the bell ringing. He checked the time: 7:45, the exact time Quackity had told him he’d pick him up, perfect. He rushed down to open the door and passed by a panicked Misu who dashed up the stairs in order to hide from the stranger at the front door (well, he did cuddle him for a while the day before, but today was a new day and Misu wasn’t taking any risks). George hastily opened the door and started to tie his shoes. When he looked back up, ready to go, he only saw Quackity standing in the doorway, staring at him, speechless.

“Earth to Quackity? Are you okay? Can you drive?

\- I- this- you- how- how the hell? How the HELL can you be even prettier? How’s that allowed? You’re good at makeup too?! Is there anything you can’t do, Gogy?!

\- Oh, thanks, George awkwardly chuckled. I’m, uh, pretty terrible at English if it makes you feel any better? And I don’t know how to play music.

\- Well thank GOD, the other one screamed while walking towards his car. Music is like, the one thing I’ve got going for me, so if you had that too I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

They laughed as they were getting into Quackity’s small white car. George felt kind of anxious, letting someone his age driving him when he wasn’t anywhere near to getting his driver’s license. However, as soon as Quackity started driving, soothing guitar filled the vehicle, and George relaxed in an instant. The drive to school was a mere 10 minutes, and the school was already buzzing with activity despite them being 20 minutes early: the excitement of the first day was probably the culprit.

Quackity guided George through the halls to check their schedules: bingo, they were together in History, and it was their first class! George felt the eyes on him, he heard the whispers, and immediately got self-conscious: did he look out of place? Was the makeup too much? Did he make a fool out of himself on the first day? Quackity noticed the frown and the anxiety that took over his friend’s face and swiftly dragged him away from the crowd, to go wait in front of their classroom.

“Hey, calm down man, you’re good. People are curious, we don’t get new faces too often, especially not people as cool as you.

\- Me? Cool? George snorted. He’d never been called that before, just the thought made him laugh.

\- Yeah, I mean it. You just don’t realize it yet, that’s all. Hey, it’s- oh, wait a second. Kaaarrrl!! Over here!”

As Quackity yelled and waved towards a sea of students, George saw a boy zooming over to where they were: he tackled Quackity before he could even react, and the two of them would have fallen down if it weren’t for George pushing Quackity back up.

“Quackity! I’m so happy to see you, dude!

\- Yeah, me too Karl, even if you were over at my house like two days ago. Oh, you know the guy I told you about? My new handsome British neighbor? There he is. Behold, he said as he dramatically stood aside to show George to his friend: The man, the legend, the one and only… Gogy!

\- WH- Quackity! My name’s-

\- George, yeah, I already know, Karl smiled. Don’t worry, Quackity just likes to tease people, especially people he’s just met. It’s a pleasure to meet you, George, the taller one said. Can’t wait to get a taste of your already well-known cookies.”

George giggled, and examined the student in front of him: he had very fluffy-looking brown, almost caramel-colored hair, grey eyes, and a sweatshirt that was probably way too colorful to be considered anything but disgusting, yet it somehow works really well on him. _Maybe his secret talent is to make ugly sweaters look good_ , George thought to himself. Quackity explained to him that this was Karl, his best friend of ten years and bassist of their group, which was dubbed _‘The Askers’_. George didn’t really question it and, as they started a joyful conversation, their history teacher invited them inside. He looked kind of old, but he still seemed nice.

George timidly sat next to Quackity, and the class went by pretty smoothly. He and Karl got to know each other a little bit more, and before they knew it, it was the end of the first period. After that, George was alone for the rest of the morning, struggling to go from class to class on time, but overall, he did surprisingly well. His teachers seemed okay, and his classes looked interesting, especially his Computer Science one. The teacher went over the year syllabus, and George was more determined than ever to ace this class.

* * * * * * * * *

Once lunchtime came around, George realized how hungry he felt. After leaving his classroom, a terrifying question came to his mind. How was he supposed to find Quackity and Karl? He didn’t have their number, and the cafeteria would be absolutely packed. He could still eat alone, but that would really suck. He was about to make his way over to the cafeteria when a hesitant but strong voice came from behind him.

“Erm, excuse me…?”

George let out a yelp as the person behind him started talking to him. He tried to sound as confident as possible when he turned around to answer, failing miserably as he heard his voice crack mid-sentence.

“Uh, yeah? Can I help you?

\- Oh, I’m sorry if I startled you, I didn’t mean to! Are you George? Quackity texted me to find you, and you seem to fit his description, the tall individual now in front of him said nervously.

\- Oh yeah, I was actually looking for him and Karl! Thank you, um…

\- Ranboo! My name’s Ranboo.

\- Yes, thank you Ranboo. So, where are…

\- Yeah, right! Let’s join them, they’re waiting for us in the parking lot.”

As the two of them made their way through the mass of students in the corridor, George stole a glance at his guide: there were a lot of things to say about the man, the first one being was how tall he was. Just how tall can a high schooler get? Probably not much taller than him. The next thing he noticed was his gloves, one black, and the other one white, an original choice to say the least, but George wasn’t judgmental in the slightest, so he instead acknowledged his light brown hair and his all-black outfit, while thinking about the reason why someone would need to wear sunglasses inside. As though he read his thoughts, Ranboo spoke up as he probably noticed the other staring.

“I have photophobia, that’s why I need to wear sunglasses at all times. Well, we’re inside right now so I could take them off, but they make me look way too cool for me to discard them when I’m inside. Plus, we’re about to step out anyway.”

George was about to answer when they opened the door, making their way towards the two familiar faces that were waiting for them with yet another stranger: a raven-haired man with a white bandana holding his hair out of his face, dark brown eyes and a style that screamed ‘e-boy’ was holding Karl’s hand, loudly cackling at something the other one said. When he was close enough, he held out a hand to George:

“Hello Gogy, nice to meet you, he said with the most awful British accent George had ever heard, which made him physically cringe. Seriously though, I’m Sapnap, Karl’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you bro!

\- Hello, Sapnap. Contrary to what Quackity seem to have told you, my name’s actually _George_ , not Gogy.

\- Oh yeah I know, the dark-haired man laughed. We’re just teasing you George, don’t worry about it. So, since you’re new, you get to choose where we eat today.

\- What do you mean? Don’t we eat at the…?

\- Oh hell no, the food’s there is disgusting. It’s kind of a tradition for us to eat out on Mondays, as a way to start the week with something resembling actual food in our stomachs, Karl said. Quackity drives us around, like the good little- Ouch, what the honk dude?!

\- Don’t act like you didn’t deserve that. Anyway, Gogy, let’s roll baby! You better have an idea, because we’re leaving now if we wanna have a chance of making it back before the next period!”

Before George could say anything else, he was sitting beside Quackity in his car, with the other three cramped in the back. George didn’t really know what they could get, so the group decided to get Taco Bell as a safe plan. They got in the drive-through, ordered all their food, and drove back to school. By the time they set foot in the cafeteria, there were several empty tables, and the group settled on one that was right by the door.

“That way, Quackity can bother every single person he knows who walks out, says Ranboo, which the man in question didn’t even bother to deny, both because he was too busy chewing on his food and because it was the truth.

They all ate peacefully, and the conversation was smooth, everyone made sure to include George in their discussion and to ask him questions, about England, about his thoughts on America amongst other things. He never went into the details though, especially regarding his personal life over there, and if anyone noticed, no one said anything. Quackity was right, George blended right in into this group of people who had probably been friends for years: the thought made George smile to himself.

“.. oge? George? Earth to Gogy? Can you hear us, man?”

George jumped right out of his thoughts as he realized he had spaced out, leaving his newfound friends with a look of worry on their faces.

“See, I told you he was okay! He just spaced out, happens to the best of us, Ranboo reassured, gently patting George’s shoulder with his gloved hand.

\- Yeah, well, better safe than sorry, answered Quackity.

\- Anyway, it’s time to get going, intervened Sapnap. You know where your next class is, Gogy?

\- Ughhh, I think I have English, the British man groaned.

\- Oh, I have English too, I can show you where to go George! We need to get going now if we don’t want to be late though, it’s on the other side of the building.

\- Thank you Karl, at least one of you remembers my actual name. Bye guys, I’ll, uh, see you later in the music room, I guess?”

Quackity beamed and nodded aggressively while waving them goodbye.

“See you later, honey pie of my heart, cooed Sapnap at his boyfriend, along with an overly flirty wink.

\- Yeah, I’ll see you later babe. Love you, Karl said nonchalantly, which left Sapnap at a loss for words. It seemed that the man was born for flirting, but the second his boyfriend flirted back, he’d turn into a blushing and stuttering mess.

George and Karl made their way over to their English class and sat down in silence. George dreaded this class, he didn’t understand a single thing. Words are words, why look for a deeper meaning? The authors probably didn’t spend hours on every sentence, so why should he? The hour passed painfully slowly, and George the two went their own separate way. The day went by rather quickly after that, and before he knew it, George was making his way towards the music room.

* * * * * * * * *

Once he was standing in front of the door, he could make out some noise on the other side of the door, namely guitar strings being absent-mindedly strummed along, and someone screaming. George hesitated for a second before opening the door, but Karl had told him that there was only one music room, so he couldn’t be mistaken. Right?

As soon as he turned the handle, the room went dead silent, as everyone inside was staring at the stranger that had just stepped into the room. George took a few seconds to look around, and assessed the four students in the room: one of them wore a yellow sweater and had a guitar sitting in his lap as he sat on a stool in the middle of the room. Another one with long pink hair was throwing daggers at him with his eyes, which seemed redder than blood for some reason, which made George gulp. The other two, who seemed younger than them, probably by just a year or two by the looks of it, were standing in the middle of the room, both of them looking at the newcomer with wide eyes. The taller of the two, with a mop of golden hair sitting atop his head and eyes a malicious blue started speaking first, with an obnoxiously loud voice, in which George immediately recognized a strong British accent:

“Hey there, big man? You lost?

\- Uh, no, I don’t think so? This is the music room, isn’t it?

\- No, this is quite obviously the kitchen, I think you’re mistaken, the pink-haired man deadpanned while gesturing towards the drums at the back of the room.

\- Come on Techno, no need to be like that! I’m guessing you’re George, right? I’m Wilbur, gently said the man with the guitar as he made his way over to George. The others told me about you. I’m the last member of the group. Those other three aren’t part of the group though. They’re-

\- I’m Tommy, screamed the blond boy in an excited voice, and this big man right there is Tubbo, he added while gesturing to his brown-haired friend next to him. Well, I’m bigger than him obviously, but-

\- There’s no need to yell, you overgrown child. I’m Technoblade, but you may refer to me as just Techno. I’m Wilbur’s twin brother, and Tommy’s our little brother as well, he’s a sophomore. Tubbo’s not officially part of the family, but given how much time he spends with us, he might as well be.

\- Aww, that’s so sweet of you Techno! Thank you, Tubbo answered with the most genuine smile George had ever seen.

\- Um… okay? Nice to meet you all, the British man slowly answered. That’s… a lot. Why, um… why aren’t the others here?”

As if on cue, loud footsteps could be heard getting closer in the corridor, before the door violently swung open. In the doorway stood Quackity, Ranboo and Karl, all panting after running to get there. While trying to steady his breathing, Quackity managed to speak up:

“Oh… good… you… you’re already… okay… cool…

\- What happened, Big Q? You guys okay, Tubbo asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

\- Oh yeah, we just wanted to wait for George in front of his last classroom, but apparently, we missed him, and then Quackity thought it would be a good idea to race here.

\- Yeah, and I… I fucking… won… you losers…

\- Sorry lads, but I don’t see any askers. Apart from us but like- you get it. We need to get started so get your asses in here, Wilbur interfered.

\- Yeah, we’re coming, give us a second to catch our breath though, Karl huffed out.”

Ranboo came over to George and invited him to go sit down in one of the little tables in the corner of the room, where Techno was already sitting. They were soon joined by Tommy and Tubbo, who immediately lowered their voices when they heard Techno growl in their direction. Ranboo started whispering to George:

“You can either work or just listen to them playing. They’re really good, he softly said, with an undeniable touch of fondness in his voice. They’re working really hard, too.

\- Yeah, I’ll listen. I'm sure they’re great.”

And so, for about two hours or so, George switched between listening to sometimes energetic, sometimes chill music and starting to work on a few assignments. His teachers really didn’t wanna lose any time. George also talked a bit to the other ones at the table, learning that Tubbo also has a keen interest in programming, which led them to bond over their shared passion, while Tommy and Ranboo were quite loudly cheering for the band, earning several scowls and threats from Techno, although George could swear he heard him humming along to some of the songs with the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

Eventually, Techno called out to Wilbur and Tommy, telling them that they had to get home, and Tubbo left with them without a word, and no one said anything, probably because it was so natural for them. Ranboo also excused himself as he needed to go home, saying that his cats needed him. Meanwhile, Alex and Karl kept on playing, singing at the top of their lungs, until someone knocked on the door. George was too focused working on some code on his laptop to see how Karl almost threw his bass on the floor and dashed to the door, like he knew who it was, to be met with open arms as Sapnap held him tightly, and made him spin around a bit, causing him to loudly giggle.

“Hey guys. I dragged Dream along, for once he accepted to come and have a social life outside of the team, so hope you don’t mind, he said before leaning down to kiss his still giggling boyfriend.

\- Of course, we don’t mind, intervened Quackity. Well, Techno’s already left so they won’t be able to compete over every single thing. How was training today?

\- It was okay, we’ve had worse. And don’t worry about me, it’s good to have a break from the usual fighting, especially when everyone knows that I’m better than him.”

Hearing a new voice snapped George out of his focus, and he turned to take a look at the newcomer: _wonderful, another giant_ , he thought as he saw the man before him. He took in the messy dirty blond hair of the man, slightly long strands making their way around his face, the freckles that were gracefully scattered across his face that looked like the night sky was painted on his nose, as well as what were probably deep green eyes, which George sadly couldn’t appreciate to their fullest. However, he could still see something shining in them, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint what. A sort of glint, a sparkle, that seemed to call to George to decipher it. He was so focused on staring that he didn’t even notice him coming closer and starting to introduce himself, their eyes still locked together.

“…’m Dream. What’s your name, pretty boy?

George blinked a few times before turning his eyes away, flushing ever so slightly as he stuttered to answer to the man.

\- Oh, I’m- Uh, I’m Go- I’m George. Sorry, I spaced out for a moment there, he awkwardly giggled, trying to will the redness of his face away, to no avail.

\- ...You’re British.

\- I- Yes, I am. Good observation Dream, it’s almost like I have a strong accent that’s evidently from the UK. He didn’t know why but he just felt the need to shove sarcasm in his face. Dream laughed, which sounded more like a dying animal and a kettle had a lovechild, but it sounded like music to George nonetheless, who basked in the sound in pure delight. It took a few moments for the wheezing man to calm down before he started talking again.

\- You- oh you’re funny, George. I hope we can be friends.

\- Yeah, we’ll see about that. At least you haven’t called me Gogy yet, so I suppose you’re not on my cancel list yet.

\- Gogy? What’s-

\- Yo Gogy, Quackity called out, sorry to interrupt but I gotta get home soon. Are you coming? I’ll drive you back home.

\- Uh, yeah, gimme a sec!"

George rapidly got up, almost falling down in the process as he messily gathered all his supplies and stuffed them into his bag. In his precipitation, he knocked down his pencil, which Dream picked up before he could, handing it back to him with a smug grin and the same spark at the back of his eyes burning even more intensely than before. George finished packing up, and was about to leave when Dream whined:

“Not even a ‘thank you’ for that pencil? Oh, you’re breaking my heart Gogy, Dream said as he dramatically put a hand over his heart.

\- I was about to, actually, but now I don’t think you deserve it. And don’t call me Gogy, my name’s George, you idiot.

\- Yeah yeah, whatever you say Gogy. See you ‘round, he waved with a wide smirk stuck to his face as his eyes looked straight into George’s.

\- Bye Karl, bye Sapnap! Hope I’ll see you guys tomorrow, George said as he turned his eyes away while walking to the door, purposefully ignoring Dream.

\- Bye Gogyyy, the two of them said in unison”

George looked back to see a dumbfounded look on Dream’s face, and George gave him a small wave with a smile as a goodbye before catching up to Quackity, who was already outside of the room and waiting for him. George didn’t have the time to see the little smile that crept on Dream’s face, as the faintest blush made its way on his cheeks.

* * * * * * * * *

Once he got home, George made his way straight up to his room and laid on his bed. For the first day of school in a new country, it could’ve gone worse. It had been particularly exhausting though. That’s most likely due to the fact that he had met a lot of new people during the day. They all seemed like really nice people, and George internally thanked Quackity for knocking on his door randomly the day before. As he was about to get up to remove his makeup, his thoughts drifted back to a certain person he had met less than an hour ago.

Dream. There was something about him that George couldn’t quite explain with words, but he just felt it. It was _his eyes_. They had something to them, especially when they were looking directly into George’s. This glint, faint at first, that slowly but surely looked more like a flame the longer George thought about them. They were looking for something, like a predator eyeing a prey before suddenly catching it. George felt his cheeks get hot, and quickly shook the thought and got up.

After eating dinner with his parents, telling them all about the many new people he’d met today, George got back to his room. _Yeah, August really is over_ , he thought as he prepared his bag for the next day. The school year was starting, and with it, new friendships were about to bloom. Before drifting to sleep, the last thoughts that crossed the brunet’s mind were thoughts of messy hair, freckles like stars and burning eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy I hoped you liked it!
> 
> Not much happened, I promise the next chapters will have more action in them, but I just needed Gogy to get settled in his new house and meet (most of) the gang.  
> Please note that I'm European, so I tried my best to depict the American school system, but it was quite a struggle, so if anything seems wacky or weird or out of place, that's why
> 
> I'll try to update as often as I can (we'll see how that goes) but I think the fastest I could go would be once a week. No promises though!  
> I'd love to hear your thoughts and criticism in the comments!  
> Love~


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